Belonging
by MoonAngelDancer
Summary: Torn between two worlds, to belong, to be wanted, is her greatest wish. Little does she know that her destiny is not to belong, but to change Skyrim...forever. Farkas x OC
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

This is a Skyrim fanfiction concerning my character. I will be following the main quest here and perhaps a few side quests. Anyways, enjoy!

**Prologue:**

She ran through the forest, taking care that every step was light, swift. She hid behind a tree, looking around to see if she was being followed. All was silent. Sunlight peeked through the leaves of the thick trees above, the wind but a soft breeze.

Her heart pounding in her chest, she continued moving. In the depths of her mind, she cursed herself for not securing her travel papers before she left. But then she had to go and listen to Father.

"_Just tell them who your father is and they will let you go without any delays. Trust me."_

No one had believed her when she got to the port in Cyrodiil and she had to bribe the guards so they could let her go. She didn't blame them really; she looked nothing like her father. Well, except for the eyes, but most people overlook that.

_He is going to receive a very angry letter from me once I've settled into Skyrim, _she thought.

Her moneybag was very light now and she doubted that she could still bribe someone to let her cross the border. A noise ahead made her stop in her tracks. She ducked behind a tree, slowly peering out.

A group of men were going down the road ahead of her, a few on horses. They seemed to be going to Skyrim, just as she was. The border wasn't that far, she could see the peaks of the tall mountains that were the tallest in all of Tamriel.

An idea struck her. If she stayed close behind them, she could get past the border along with them. She prayed that she wouldn't be noticed. If they did, she prayed that the coin she still had with her would be enough to pay them off.

Silently, she stepped from the tree and began to walk behind the group. From the corner of her eye, she saw another man, dressed in rags. He was inching his way closer to the group, eyeing the horse being led by an armored man.

A thief.

She decided not to pay any attention to the thief, instead keeping her head down and pulling her cloak to cover most of her face.

_Almost there...a few more steps and I'll be in Skyrim..._

Suddenly, more armored men jumped out from behind the trees, surrounding them. She froze, looking around for a way out. Even the thief was trapped with them, having been so close to the horse he intended to steal. Archers positioned their bows all around them, making any escape impossible. Nonetheless, the group in front of her all drew their swords...except one. He looked like the leader of the group.

He raised his hand. "Put away your swords."

"But sire –" one of his men protested.

"Put away your swords!" the leader snapped.

The men all looked at each other and sheathed their swords. She looked around again. Their captors seem more preoccupied with the leader of the group. Maybe...just maybe...

She made a run for it.

"Hey!"

She passed the leader of the group, madly dodging the rain of arrows that came her way. Her heart thundering in her chest, she prayed she would make it.

A sharp pain exploded at the back of her head. She looked up just in time to see another armored man half-behind a tree holding a sword in his hand before her vision gave way to darkness.


	2. Daanik

**Author's Note: **_Daanik _is the Dragon word for "doomed"

**First Shout : Daanik**

I slowly opened my eyes, my head aching. I shook my head, trying to clear away the pain, and it was then I realized that my wrists were bound, and I was wearing a rough spun tunic and foot wraps. My moneybag was gone, along with the rest of my few belongings. I was sitting in a carriage along with the thief, the leader of the group I had followed, and one of his men. I looked around, noticing that we were part of a long line of carriages, each containing prisoners.

_Well, at least you're in Skyrim, _I thought sourly.

"Hey, you," the man sitting before me said, addressing me. He had blond hair and was attired in light armor. "You're finally awake."

"Barely," I murmured as my eyes adjusted to the sunlight.

"You were trying to cross the border, right?" the man continued. "Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there." He tossed his head at the thief sitting beside him.

"Damn you Stormcloaks," the thief hissed at him. "Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy."

I blinked. Imperials? Stormcloaks? Father had mentioned that a rebellion was stirring in Skyrim, led by men who called themselves the Stormcloaks. Fantastic, I had made the mistake of unknowingly walking right into the middle of a potential civil war.

"If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and be halfway to Hammerfell." The thief glared at the man then looked at me. "You there. You and me – we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

"I might as well be along with them," I sighed. "I was illegally crossing the border – I didn't have any travel papers. Trust me, if I could do anything, I would've done so already."

"Trying to run from an Imperial ambush," the man sitting before me remarked, "it was a brave thing you did. Or stupid."

"I had nothing to lose," I said. And it was the truth.

"Stupid girl," the thief muttered.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief," the man said. He turned back to face me. "My name is Ralof."

"Shut up back there!" the Imperial soldier driving the carriage snapped.

I glared at his back. I never really liked the Imperials, especially the ones back home. No, I corrected myself. That was never home. Not when you're always surrounded by those that belittle you for what you are. Not when those damned Imperials mocked you to no end.

The thief's voice cut through my thoughts.

"And what's wrong with him, huh?" he said, thrusting his chin out to the man sitting beside me. The leader of the group. He had a gag around his mouth in addition to his hands being bound.

"Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"

"Ulfric?" the thief echoed. "The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion!"

My eyes grew wide. I was sitting beside the leader of the Stormcloaks himself! Why did I not realize it earlier? I should've seen it by the fine clothes he was wearing.

"But if they captured you…Oh gods, where are they taking us?" For the first time, the thief's voice held the tone of true fear.

"I don't know where we're going," Ralof said giving a defeated sigh, "but Sovngarde awaits."

"No, this can't be happening! This isn't happening!" the thief babbled frantically.

We were approaching a small town. I could see that the gates were open, like a hungry beast waiting for its meal to be delivered to it. Dread began to creep up within me – I knew death was waiting, but I was afraid of the manner of which I was going to die.

"Hey…what village are you from, horse thief?" Ralof asked.

"Why do you care?" the thief asked.

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

_What if you didn't have one? _I thought. _What last thoughts should you have?_

"Rorikstead," the thief stammered. "I'm…I'm from Rorikstead."

As we neared the gates, I heard one of the soldiers shout:

"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!"

"Good, let's get this over with," the man called General Tullius said as we crossed the gates and into the town.

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh," the thief mumbled over and over. "Divines, please help me!"

"Look at him," Ralof said glaring at an Imperial sitting atop a horse. "General Tullius the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this."

The Thalmor – now _that _was a name I knew too well. And a name I had hoped never to hear again.

Ralof looked around at the town and sighed. "This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in. Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

Most of the villagers were coming out of their houses, staring at us, whispering to one another.

"Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?" I heard a boy ask.

"You need to go inside, little cub," his father said.

"Why? I want to watch the soldiers!"

"Inside the house. Now."

"Yes, papa."

The carriages began to slow down as it neared the end of the road.

"Why are we stopping?" the thief asked fearfully.

"Why do you think?" Ralof said. "End of the line."

The carriage stopped along with the others. Ralof began to stand up.

"Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us."

"No! Wait! We're not rebels!" the thief cried out.

"Face your death with some courage, thief," Ralof said as we climbed down the carriage.

"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!"

"Step towards the block when we call your name, one at a time!" an Imperial woman dressed in heavy armor ordered sharply. A captain.

Ralof sighed. "Empire loves their damn lists."

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm," a man holding a book and a quill called out.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric," Ralof said.

Ulfric Stormcloak stepped forward and took his place at the line of prisoners waiting for their sentence. My blood ran cold. We were going to be beheaded.

"Ralof of Riverwood."

Ralof nodded at me and followed Ulfric Stormcloak.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No, I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" the horse thief cried out. He began to run.

"Halt!" the Imperial Captain shouted.

"You're not going to kill me!" Lokir yelled.

"Archers!"

An arrow swiftly pierced through his back. Lokir crumpled to the ground and lay still.

"Anyone else feel like running?" the Captain asked coldly.

"Wait," the man holding the book and quill said as he motioned to me. "You there. Step forward."

I walked up to him slowly. He was handsome, the lines and angles of his face sharp and well defined, his hair a deep brown.

"Who are you?" he asked.

His gaze was piercing, and I instinctively shrank back, my eyes going to the ground.

_No! _I shouted at myself. _Not again! Not ever! Never again will I allow myself to cower!_

I rose up to my full height and glared at him.

"Vanya Sunwar," I said with all the conviction I could muster.

He nodded and wrote my name down. "You picked a bad time to come to Skyrim, kinsman." He turned to the woman beside him. "Captain, what should we do? She's not on the list."

"Forget the list!" the Imperial Captain snapped at him. "She goes to the block."

"By your orders, Captain." His expression was full of pity as he turned back to me. "I'm sorry. At least you'll die here, in your homeland."

I shook my head and followed the Captain to where Ralof and the others were standing. I had often dreamed that my death would be swift and painless, but at the sight of the axe in the executioner's hand, I knew that it was not to be. My stomach tossed and turned with every step I took.

"Ulfric Stormcloak," the man called General Tullius said. "Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."

Ulfric Stormcloak glared at the General and appeared to be saying something, but the gag in his mouth prevented him from speaking coherently.

"You started this war," General Tullius continued, "plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace."

As if in reply, a distant roar echoed from beyond the forest. Everyone looked up and around in panic, trying to find the source of the sound.

"What was that?" the man with the list asked in alarm.

"It's nothing," General Tullius said his tone showing a hint of anxiety. "Carry on."

"Yes, General Tullius!" the Imperial Captain said with a salute. She turned to a priestess that stood near the block. "Give them their Last Rites."

The priestess nodded and raised her arms up to the sky. "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you –"

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with!" a Stormcloak barked impatiently.

The priestess stopped speaking. "As you wish."

The Stormcloak walked towards the block and the Captain pushed him to his knees. His head rested against the block, his face turned towards the executioner.

"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials," he spat. "Can you say the same?"

Those were his last words as the axe came down, separating his head from his body in one blow. I gulped as dark red blood spurted forth from his neck and his body fell sideways.

_By the Divines, please let death be painless, _I prayed trying to stop my whole body from shaking.

"You Imperial bastards!" a Stormcloak woman shouted.

"Death to the Stormcloaks!" another woman shouted from the crowd that had assembled to watch.

"As fearless in death as he was in life," Ralof said solemnly.

"Next, the Nord in the rags!" the Captain called, pointing to me.

The distant roar came again. Was it a sign from the Divines?

"There it is again," the man with the list said. "Did you hear that?"

"I said, next prisoner!" the Captain repeated.

The man sighed and motioned to me. "To the block prisoner, nice and easy."

Slowly I stepped towards it. I wasn't afraid of death, just afraid of the pain it would bring. Memories of agonies I had gone through flashed in my mind, and I closed my eyes, trying to block them out. If the first one had been quick, perhaps mine would be too. A swift, painless death – that was all I asked of the Divines.

The stench of the lifeless body before me flooded my nostrils. I held my breath as I knelt before the block. A basket containing the Stormcloak's head lay ready to catch mine. The stone was warm and sticky with blood and I let out the breath I had been holding. Then, quickly held it again, trying not to throw up.

My eyes gazed at the tower just behind the executioner, then traveled to the cloud-covered sky. At least I had a nice view before I died.

~ O ~ O ~ O ~ O ~

**First chapter done! Please review if you want me to continue this! Should I follow game dialogue or deviate from it?**


	3. Al

**Author's Note:** _Al _is the Dragon word for "destroyer"

**Second Shout: Al  
**

A dark shape flew from behind the clouds. I gasped.

"What in Oblivion is that?" I heard General Tullius cry.

The dark shape flew closer as the executioner raised his axe.

"Sentries, what do you see?" the Imperial Captain barked.

"It's in the clouds!" a soldier shouted.

The dark shape landed on the tower behind the executioner, making the ground shake with the impact. The dark shape was covered in scales, and had a pair of enormous wings. It roared, making my blood run cold.

By the Divines, it was a –

"DRAGON!" a woman shrieked.

The dragon roared again, sending out a shockwave that blew everyone back. The clouds began to stir, darkening and darkening with each passing moment. Fire began to fall from the sky.

"Don't just stand there, kill that thing!" General Tullius ordered. "Guards, get the people to safety!"

I just knelt there, paralyzed with fear. All around me, people were frantically trying to escape, some of the guards trying to fight off the hideous beast. My mind willed my body to move, but it refused.

"Hey, kinsman!" Ralof's voice made me look up sharply. "Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!"

All at once, every nerve in my body sprung to life, and I stood up, following Ralof as he made his way through the burning town.

"This way!" he yelled at me.

We ran to a nearby keep and dove through the door just as a handful of Stormcloaks slammed it shut. Ulfric Stormcloak was already inside, his mouth gag-free and his wrists unbound .

"Jarl Ulfric!" Ralof said trying to hide the panic his tone carried. "What is that thing? Could the legends be true?"

"Legends don't burn down villages," Ulfric Stormcloak said quietly. Another roar came again, making everyone jump. "We need to move. Now!"

"Up through the tower!" Ralof ordered. "Let's go!"

Having no time to speak, I ran up the stairs, Ralof and the others following close behind. As we neared the top, the wall burst inwards, stone flying in all directions. Before I knew it, I was staring at the dragon's head as it opened its mouth wide.

"Look out!"

I ducked as a jet of fire erupted into the tower, incinerating everything in its path. After a while, I peered outside. The dragon had gone to destroy another part of Helgen.

"See the inn on the other side?" Ralof said pointing to a burning building a few feet away from the hole in the tower. "Jump through the roof and keep going!"

"Are you insane?" I yelled.

"We don't have a choice!" he shouted. "Just do it!"

I looked down. The drop was at least ten feet and the ground was covered with debris. But there was no other way to go. I eyed the caved in roof of the inn and took a few steps back. I ran…and jumped.

I landed right into the inn's second floor and jumped down through a hole in the floor. Without waiting for Ralof, I ran outside. The whole town was in flames and I saw the man who had been writing down our names not too far away. His sword was drawn and he was motioning to a boy.

"Hamming, you need to get over here right now!" he shouted.

The child ran towards him just as the dragon landed right behind him. I ran forward and pushed the boy aside as another jet of fire shot out, nearly missing us by inches.

"Gods, everyone get back!" the man turned to me. "Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me and you'll stay that way! Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join the defense!"

"Gods guide you, Hadvar," the man named Gunnar said.

"Come on!" Hadvar beckoned to me.

With nothing but survival on my mind, I followed. Moving through the ruined, blazing buildings, we tried to keep out of the dragon's sight. The Imperial soldiers were doing everything they could, but it seemed as if the dragon was a god personified. No weapon could touch him.

_Could this be Akatosh? _I wondered. Akatosh, the King of the Gods, was reputed to take on the form of a dragon. _But if this truly is him, why is he destroying everything?_

"Fall, damn you!" a soldier cursed as he kept shooting arrows into the sky.

"Ralof!" Hadvar sneered once we reached the keep. "You damn traitor, out of my way!"

"We're escaping, Hadvar!" Ralof snarled. "You're not stopping us this time!"

"Fine! I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!"

Ralof motioned to me. "You! Come on, into the keep!"

I glanced at Hadvar, but he had already disappeared through one of the doors of the keep. I rushed to Ralof, who held a door open. As the dragon flew overhead, we both went inside and bolted the door shut.

It was a small, circular room, with a few piles of straw here and there, and a rickety table and chair in one corner. It must have been used as a prison. Slumped against the table was a body, wearing the same armor as Ralof. Ralof approached the body and felt for a pulse.

He bowed his head. "We'll meet again in Sovngarde, brother." He stood and turned to me. "Looks like we're the only ones who made it. That thing was a dragon. No doubt. Just like the children's stories and the legends. The harbingers of the End Times." Though his voice was laced with fear, I noticed it held a touch of awe. "We better get moving," he continued regaining his composure. "Come here. Let me see if we can get those bindings off."

"Thank you," I said gratefully holding out my wrists.

He produced a dagger and cut through the ropes. I rubbed my hands and wrists, feeling the numbness going away as blood flowed freely once again.

"I believe I introduced myself earlier," he said. "But you haven't."

"Vanya Sunwar," I said nonchalantly. "Ralof, was it?"

He nodded and gestured to the body slumped against the table. "You may as well take Gunjar's gear. He won't be needing it anymore."

I looked down at the body. He had died from stab wounds, probably from a fight with the Imperials. Feeling extremely awkward, I took off the cuirass he was wearing along with his boots, leaving him dressed in nothing but his undergarments. I blushed and quickly turned away.

"Uhh…do you mind?" I asked.

"Huh? What? Oh. O-of course." He went to the other side of the room and turned around.

Keeping him at the corner of my eye, I stripped off the ragged clothes and foot wraps I was wearing and put on the armor and boots. I then picked up Gunjar's iron axe and thrust it into my belt. Father hated weapons of any kind, but that never stopped me from training with them.

_I wonder if I could still…_I thought.

I concentrated, reaching for the swirling pools of mana that lay dormant within me. I stretched out my left hand and began to channel my power. In another moment, my hand was enveloped in flames.

I smiled. _Yes, I still can._

"Is it all right to turn around now?" Ralof asked loudly from the other side of the room.

"Oh, right. Yes. Yes, it's all right now."

Ralof turned and looked at me up and down. "That armor suits you, lass. If you don't fight as well as a Stormcloak, you might as well look like one."

"I know how to fight," I said with a frown.

"Good." He went over to a door. "Damn. No way to open this from our side."

"Is there another way out?"

"There is. The way we came in. But if you ask me, I wouldn't risk it."

Heavy footsteps came from beyond another locked door on near me. Peering through it, I could see two figures heading towards us.

"Come in, soldier! Keep moving!" the voice of the Imperial Captain echoed from the corridor outside.

"It's the Imperials! Take cover!" Ralof whispered hurriedly.

I hugged the wall beside the door, my hand ready to pull out the axe. The footsteps stopped.

"Get this door open," the Imperial Captain barked.

As soon as they rushed in, Ralof and I sprang to attack. I swung the axe, dealing a blow on the Imperial Captain. She staggered backwards, blood pouring from her chest. I gave her a poisonous glare and thrust my left hand out, shooting flames at her. She screamed in agony and collapsed on the ground, dead.

"That was for trying to kill me, bitch," I spat at her body.

Ralof pulled his sword from the Imperial soldier's body. "Magic and combat. There more to you than meets the eye, lass."

I smiled at him and searched the Imperial Captain's body. I took the key that was in her pocket, and tossed the axe I had used away, replacing it with her sword.

"I think this key belongs to that door you were trying to open," I said.

I walked over to the door, slid the key into the lock, and turned. There was a faint click and the door swung open.

"That's it!" Ralof said. "Come on; let's get out of here before the dragon brings the whole tower down on our heads."

We had to fight our way out of the tower and make a detour through an underground cave (fighting some huge spiders along the way), but we emerged on the outskirts of Helgen none the worse for wear. My pocket jingled with the few coins we had managed to find in the caves, and I carried a small pack that I took from another fallen Imperial. There was nothing inside but a couple of potions and a piece of dry bread.

I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the sun as we emerged from the cave. "Finally, we're out of there."

"Wait!" Ralof crouched behind a rock as the dragon flew over our heads, disappearing into the distance with another roar. "There he goes…Looks like he's gone for good this time."

"Wherever he's going, I hope it's not into another village," I said softly. I looked back at the mouth of the cave. _How many people made it out safe and sound…?_

"No way to know if anyone else made it out alive," Ralof said as if reading my mind. He began to walk briskly down the road. "But this place will be swarming with Imperials soon enough. We better clear out of here."

I nodded. "Sounds good." I began to follow him.

"My sister Gerdur runs the mill in Riverwood. Just up the road. I'm sure she'd help you out." He looked back at me. "It's probably best if we split up. Good luck. I wouldn't have made it without your help today."

"Thank you for helping me out as well," I said. "This is my first time coming to Skyrim."

"You're not from here?" Ralof asked.

"In…a sense."

"Where were you born, lass?"

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter where. What matters is that I'm home."

~ O ~ O ~ O ~ O ~

**Yay, second chapter done! Please review, review, review! The more reviews, the more motivation! And please do not hesitate to give constructive criticism. I want to know your thoughts on how I can improve my story further :) **


	4. Bahlaan

**Author's ****Note:** _Bahlaan _is the Dragon word for "worthy"

**Third Shout: Bahlaan**

I looked around Whiterun, taking in numerous houses and shops that were scattered here and there, the adults going about their business, the children chasing each other up and down the roads.

"You may want to join the Companions," Ralof had told me when I left Riverwood. "A woman of your skill could be of use to them, or you could join the Stormcloaks, if you're ever up to traveling to Windhelm."

I pondered on my options but I knew that both groups would have to wait. I had business with the Jarl.

A few minutes later, I arrived at Dragonsreach, the immense fortress atop the highest point in Whiterun. Two guards stood at either side of the door, weapons in hand, looking as stern as they could. When I approached them, they tensed.

"What is your business here?" one asked.

"I must speak to Jarl Balgruuf," I replied. "It's urgent."

"And what is it that is so urgent?" they pressed.

"The dragon at Helgen," I said.

The one to the right paled slightly. "We had heard…so the rumors are true…" He turned and began to open the door. "Come then, you must see the Jarl immediately."

I caught the gasp that rose in my throat. Never have I stood in such a magnificent great hall, with a long carpet running from the door to the throne at the other side of the room, a large fireplace burning bright before it, and two long tables piled with food on either side of it. Doors that go Divines-know-where dotted the walls, opening and closing as people came in and out of them.

The guard beckoned to me and I followed him towards the throne. As we neared, I caught snatches of conversation happening between the Jarl and one of his men.

"…No time for action. I just think we need more information before we act. I just…"

The Jarl looked up at me. "Who is this then?"

Jarl Balgruuf the Greater was a handsome man, probably around his early thirties, with blond hair upon which nestled a circlet that was studded with a few precious stones. His beard was neatly trimmed, and he wore rich robes that fit his position.

"Well, I trust that you have something vitally important to tell me," he continued giving me an icy stare. "Important enough to interrupt me in the middle of council?"

I nodded. "My name is Vanya Sunwar, Jarl Balgruuf. A dragon destroyed Helgen. Gerdur is afraid that Riverwood might be next."

This was what I had promised Gerdur in exchange for letting me stay one night at her home, that I would immediately go to the Jarl and warn him about the dragon.

The Jarl stroked his chin. "Gerdur? Owns the lumber mill, if I'm not mistaken. Pillar of the community. Not prone to flights of fancy…Are you're sure Helgen was destroyed by a dragon? This wasn't some Stormcloak raid gone wrong?" He eyed the Stormcloak gear I was wearing. It was all I had for the time being as I didn't have money to buy new armor.

"Yes, I had a great view while the Imperials were about to cut off my head," I said sarcastically. Unfortunately, the Jarl didn't catch it.

"Really? You're certainly…forthright about your criminal past."

I frowned. He thought me a criminal? I may have been trying to enter Skyrim illegally but that didn't mean I sunk as low as thieves and murderers!

"It's none of my concern what who the Imperials want to execute. Especially now. What I want to know is what exactly happened at Helgen." The Jarl shifted in his throne his gaze becoming less icy.

"A dragon destroyed Helgen," I said. "And last I saw it was heading this way."

"By Ysmir, Irileth was right!" Jarl Balgruuf declared.

"My Lord," a Dunmer to the Jarl's right spoke up. I guessed her to be Irileth. "We should send troops to Riverwood at once. It's in the most immediate danger, if that dragon is lurking in the mountains…"

The man to the Jarl's left began to protest saying something about provoking the Jarl of Falkreath but Jarl Balgruuf raised a hand.

"Enough!" he snapped. "I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people!" He turned to the Dunmer. "Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."

She bowed. "Yes, my Jarl."

She left, and so did the man on the Jarl's left. He turned to me again.

"Well done," he said. "You sought me out, on your own initiative. You've done Whiterun a service and won't forget it."

"I was just helping a friend, my lord," I responded.

He stood and motioned to a servant, who brought forth a set of armor. "Here, take this as a token of my esteem."

I thanked the Jarl and examined the armor. A smile touched my lips when I found the set to be studded Imperial armor.

_This will fetch a nice price at the blacksmith, _I thought.

"There is another thing you could do for me," the Jarl said. "Suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps."

"I am honored, my Lord, but may it wait another time?" I asked. "For I have just arrived in the city and I admit I am tired."

He nodded. "Very well. Seek me out if you are interested and I will have you talk to Farengar."

I bowed, thanked the Jarl again, and left Dragonsreach. It was almost sunset and the shops were beginning to close. I rushed to the blacksmith and sold the armor, thankful to have a decent amount of coin in my moneybag.

"Barely enough for a night at the inn…" I muttered to myself as I pocketed the bag. I looked around. "Or…maybe I don't have to spend any coin at all…"

Remembering Ralof's advice, I headed towards the building shaped like an upturned boat in the Wind District. Jorrvaskr, home of the Companions. Even back home I had heard about this hardy group. They were similar to the Fighters Guild in Cyrodiil.

As I walked in, I heard shouting and cursing, to the left of the dining hall. Everyone was clustered around a Nord woman and a male Dunmer. Filled with curiosity, I went closer to watch.

The two had their fists raised and were attempting to knock one another to the ground. A couple of their friends were cheering them on, while another looked disapprovingly at the brawl.

"Gods damn you!" the woman shouted as she swung a right hook. It connected to the Dunmer's jaw and he went down.

The Dunmer rubbed his jaw. "Next time, Njada. I swear."

She smirked. "I'd like to see you try."

The group dispersed, none of them taking any notice of me. I approached a bald man with two streaks of war paint and tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned. "What is it?"

"Uh….hi," I said timidly. "I was wondering if I could…join the Companions."

He chuckled. "So you think you have what it takes? Huh. Lucky for you, I'm not the one who makes that decision. Talk to Kodlak. Who knows, maybe he's in a generous mood."

"Kodlak…?" I asked.

He sighed, giving me a look of utter annoyance." Follow me."

With everyone still oblivious to my presence, the man led me to the lower floor of the building. I glimpsed the inside of some rooms as we passed, seeing beds, dressers and weapon stands.

He led me to a room on the far right and pointed to an elderly man seated at a small circular table talking with a younger man.

"That's Kodlak, go talk to him," my guide said as he turned and left.

_How polite,_ I thought.

As I entered the room, the two men turned their attentions to me.

"A stranger comes to our hall," the old man said.

I cleared my throat and tried to look confident. "My name if Vanya Sunwar and I would like to join the Companions."

"Would you now?" he said. "Here, let me have a look at you."

He looked at me up and down, and I wished that I had taken a nice bath in the river before coming to Whiterun. My hair, thought it covered my ears and my forehead, looked in complete disarray. And my clothes were filthy and smelled like blood and dirt.

Kodlak stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Hm. Yes, perhaps. A certain strength of spirit."

"My mother did say I was too stubborn for my own good," I said with a small smile.

"Master, you're not truly considering accepting her?" his companion asked. "She looks like she could barely hold a sword."

I glared at him. "I can wield a sword quite well for someone of my stature."

"I am nobody's master, Vilkas," Kodlak said. "And last I checked, we had some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts."

"Apologies," the man named Vilkas said. "But perhaps this isn't the time. I've never even heard of this outsider."

"I don't see why you should hear of me," I said. "I am merely a Nord without a place to go and seeking to lend her services to the Companions."

"Sometimes the famous come to us," Kodlak mused. "Sometimes men and women come to us to seek their fame. It makes no difference. What matters is their heart."

"And their arm," Vilkas added.

"Of course. How are you in battle, lass?"

I patted the sword at my hip. "My arms look thin but like I said, I can wield a sword quite well. I can handle myself."

"That may be so." He gestured to the man sitting with him. "This is Vilkas. He will test your arm. Vilkas, take her out to the yard and see what she can do."

"Aye."

Vilkas stood and I realized that he was at least a foot taller than I was.

"Come on," he said to me.

I followed him back upstairs, looking at him up and down, analyzing his physique. He wasn't a big man, but by looking at him one could tell that he was honed to be in the battlefield.

The yard behind Jorrvaskr was very spacious, with shorter tables with plates of food for those who were hungry after a training session, a group of straw dummies set up against the far wall, and a couple of targets for archery practice.

"Ah, fresh blood," the Dunmer I saw fighting with the Nord earlier said as Vilkas and I stood in the middle of the yard. "Hope you know how to handle yourself."

"The old man said to have a look at you," Vilkas said. "So, let's do this. Just have a few swings at me so I can see your form."

I look at my sword. "Are you…sure?"

"Don't worry, I can take it," he assured me.

We drew our swords at the same time and circled each other. Half-afraid of hurting him, I swung without much force. He blocked with his sword and nodded.

"Not bad," he assessed. "Next time won't be so easy."

"That was it?" I asked bewildered.

He chuckled. "You might just make it. But for now, you're still a whelp to us, new blood. So you do what we tell you."

"I…fine."

"Here's my sword." He carefully handed it to me. "Go take it up to Eorlund to have it sharpened. And be careful, it's probably worth more than you are."

He pointed to a figure atop the small hill beside Jorrvaskr and went inside. I stared after him, the sword in my hands, trying to digest what just happened.

"Cocky bastard," I muttered under my breath. "I should've swung at full force."

With a sigh, I carried the sword up the hill. The whole top of it was a blacksmith's workshop, and working at the anvil was a lone man dressed in light armor.

"What brings you here?" Eorlund asked.

"Uhh…Vilkas sent me with his sword," I replied.

"I'm guessing you're the newcomer then."

"Yes, sir. My name is Vanya." I handed him the heavy sword. "Does Vilkas always send newcomers on errands?"

Eorlund smiled. "Oh, don't worry too much about it. They were all whelps once. They just might not like to talk about it. And don't always just do what you're told. Nobody rules anybody in the Companions."

"Someone has to be in charge though."

"Well, I'm not sure how they managed it, but they have. No leaders since Ysgramor. Kodlak is the Harbinger, and he's a sort of adviser to the whole group, but every man is his own. Every woman, her own."

I nodded. "I better be going."

"Wait, I have a favor to ask."

"What is it?"

"I've been working on a shield for Aela. My wife is in mourning and I need to get back to her soon. I'd be much obliged if you could take this to Aela for me." He held out the medium-sized sturdy shield.

I wanted to remind him that he just told me not to be anyone's servant but what came out of my mouth was "I'd be happy to help."

He smiled and handed me the shield. "That's a good girl."

I sighed again and walked away from the forge, clutching the shield in my arms and wondering if I had made the right choice in joining the Companions. It seemed as though I was going to be their new pet.

"Better than being out on the streets," I murmured to myself as I went back inside. "And at least I can hold my own against them."

~ O ~ O ~ O ~ O ~

**I am so sorry I didn't update for a long time! I had writer's block and summer classes so I barely had time to sit and think about what to write. But I'm back now and I will try to update more. I hope you liked the chapter and remember to review!**


	5. Ahmik

**Author's Note: **_Ahmik _is the Dragon word for "Service"**  
**

**Fourth Shout: Ahmik  
**

Firstly, I didn't know who Aela was, and secondly, I had no idea where her room was. I looked around the hall, wondering if I could approach the bald man again when a woman sweeping the floor called to me.

"You must be the new one," she said. "I am Tilma, the caretaker of Jorrvaskr. Are you looking for anyone?"

"Aela…" I said.

Tilma smiled. "She's in her quarters right now, child. Look for a woman with three streaks of war paint across her face."

I nodded. "Thank you. My name is Vanya by the way."

"Welcome to the Companions, Vanya. I hope you will settle comfortably."

I headed downstairs and soon found Aela, talking to the bald man.

"…Wouldn't have the patience with all the rabble around here," she was saying. She noticed me standing at the door. "Oh, hello. You need something?"

"I have your shield," I said holding it out to her.

"Ah good." She took it and put it on the bed. "I've been waiting for this. Are you new here?"

"I told you, this is the whelp that Vilkas mentioned," the bald man said.

"Ah, yes. Vanya, was it? I heard you gave Vilkas quite a thrashing."

"It was technically just a light swing," I said.

"Don't let Vilkas catch you saying that."

"Do you think you can handle Vilkas in a real fight?" Aela asked me.

"I don't care for boasting," I admitted. "I'd rather let my actions speak of themselves."

Aela nodded. "I like you. We let us hunt together sometime. By the way, we haven't properly introduced ourselves. I'm Aela, and this one here is Skjor."

I smiled. "Nice to meet you."

Skjor just sort of grunted, so I took it as his way of greeting others. Then I yawned, suddenly aware how tired I was.

"Must have been a rough day, huh?" Aela said. "Let's have Farkas show you where you'll be resting your head."

"Farkas!" Skjor shouted.

A few heavy footsteps later and Vilkas appeared at the door. Or, rather, Vilkas' mirror image. His hair was longer, a stubble along his jaw unlike his brother who sported a full beard. He wore heavy armor yet it did not hide the fact that, like his brother, his body showed every single aspect of a powerful warrior.

"You called me?" his voice was deeper, more mature, as well.

"Of course we did, ice brain," Aela said impatiently. "Show this new blood where the rest of the whelps sleep."

I frowned. I really didn't like being called a whelp, but I held my tongue. They had, after all, seniority over me.

"New blood?" Farkas looked at me. "Oh, hello. I'm Farkas."

"Vanya," I returned. "It's nice to meet you."

He nodded. "Come, follow me." As we walked down the hall, he made an effort to talk to me. "Skjor and Aela like to tease me, but they're good people. They challenge us to be our best." He smiled. "Nice to have a new face around, it gets boring here sometimes. I hope we keep you. This can be a rough life."

To his surprise, I laughed coldly. "Nothing can compare to what I've been through."

"Like what?" he asked.

I shook my head. None of them didn't need to know what I had been through; it was too painful to even think about it. After a moment of awkward silence, Farkas led me to the room across the door that led upstairs.

"The quarters are up here," he said. "Just pick a bed and fall in it when you're tired. Tilma will keep the place clean. She always does."

"What about…uhh…bathing?" I asked.

"There's a room next to this one that has three tubs," he said. "You'll have to get the water yourself, though." He stood at the doorway. "All right, so here you are. Looks like the others are eager to meet you. Come to me or Aela if you're looking for work."

I nodded. "All right."

"Once you've made a bit of a name for yourself, Skjor and Vilkas might have things for you to do."

I nodded again. "All right."

"Good luck. Welcome to the Companions."

I entered and saw that the wide room was divided into the men's and women's sections. The other members of the Companions were assembled there and soon I met Ria, who boasted that she killed a bear yesterday, Torvar, a recent new addition to the Companions, and Njada Stonearm, who was the woman fighting the Dunmer earlier.

After a nice, warm bath that left me feeling refreshed, I took off my armor and put on the long sleeping shift that Aela had been kind enough to lend me. I looked around me, sighing in contentment that the worst was over. With that thought I collapsed upon my bed and was soon asleep.

"_They were laughing at me." She tried to hold the tears back but they soon betrayed her, falling in a relentless stream down her cheeks. "I…I can't do it, mama. I don't know why, but I can't."_

_She brushed her thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away the child's tears. "It doesn't matter, child."_

"_But mama…"_

"_Contrary to your father's beliefs, you don't have to be like him."_

"_I don't…?"_

"_Of course not. Tell you what, tomorrow, I will teach you how to be a warrior."_

_She smiled all sadness gone. "Really?"_

"_Your heart is a warrior's heart, my dear, I can feel it. You were born to be a warrior."_

I woke, at first not realizing where I was. I slowly sat up, shaking the sleep from my body, and the events of the past few days came back to me.

_I'm a Companion now, _I thought. _Well, a whelp, as they like to put it._

The quarters were empty, so as soon as I got dressed, I went upstairs. Aela, Vilkas, and Skjor were having breakfast, while Farkas was sitting in one corner, polish his greatsword. I saw no sign of the others.

"Morning," I said as I sat down and reached for a steak and a slice of bread.

"Good morning, Vanya," Aela said. "What are you planning to do today?"

I shrugged. Unless they wanted me to go out on a few errands, I didn't know what to do. I considered going back to Jarl Balgruuf for his offer, but I felt like I needed to prove myself more to this group.

"Maybe train a little," I said. "Or look for work."

"Farkas and I can give you work to do," Aela said. "We never run out of things to do for the people in Whiterun."

I grabbed another slice of bread. "I see. And we get paid well?"

"More or less," Skjor said.

"What kind of work do you usually do?"

"Mostly get rid of trouble," Vilkas said. "Break up disputes, clear out some bandits somewhere, and the like."

"Well…can't wait to get started."

And so life with the Companions began. A started doing some odd jobs for Aela and Farkas, mostly involving roughing up some people to prevent them from making trouble. As the days passed, I steadily got to know my fellow companions. Njada liked to look and act tough, but I discovered she had a soft spot for kittens after seeing her feeding a few strays that wandered into the yard. Athis would sometimes give me a few tips here and there whenever I trained. Ria, I found, was the newest member of the Companions before I joined, and we bonded as we were ordered around by Skjor, Vilkas, and the others.

I also went back to Jarl Balgruuf to ask about what he wanted me to do for him and it turned out his mage named Farengar wanted me to fetch an artifact called the Dragonstone from Bleak Falls Barrow. According to him, the Dragonstone was a map of dragon burial sites. Thank the Dives the Jarl gave me a map or I would've gotten lost looking for the damned place. Traveling to it, though, took nearly a day and a half, because I had no other mode of transportation except walking.

I didn't know how long I was in there, but when I emerged from Bleak Falls Barrow, I had cuts and bruises all over my body, and a rather deep gash at my side as a result of fighting a powerful draugr in the main room. I pressed my fingers to the wound, hissing as pain erupted and spread through my side.

"Next time I'm doing something for the Jarl, I'm making sure I have an army with me," I mumbled to myself.

My mind suddenly went back to the expanse of wall behind the sarcophagus wherein the draugr lay before awakening. As soon as I approached the wall, one word upon it began to pulse, as if it was alive and knew I was there. Wind began to blow around me, which was impossible since I was underground and there was no wind. I stared at the word on the wall. It was written in some weird language I could not understand, yet I felt that I knew.

Light shone from the word and seemed to flow into me, enveloping me in a warm embrace. I closed my eyes as the word formed in my mind, and I suddenly knew what it meant. But when I tried to say the word, I found that I could not.

"What…the hell…was that?" I had asked myself. I stared at the wall again, but it lay still, becoming once again cold, empty stone.

It was approaching after by the time I reached Dragonsreach. The guards looked at me as if they wanted to ask what I was carried, but I flashed a glare at them and they remained quiet and opened the door for me.

I found Farengar in his study talking to a woman I didn't know and nearly slammed the Dragonstone on the table in front of him.

"Here! I found your stone!" I tried not to sound annoyed as the words fell from my mouth.

Farengar and the woman looked up. He picked up the stone and examined it. After a while, his face lit up with joy.

"The things we could learn from this!" He was practically skipping. "Delphine, I want you to translate this immediately."

"Yes, sir," the woman said taking the tablet. As she walked out, she eyed me suspiciously.

"Thank you for bringing the stone," Farengar said. He handed me a small money bag. "I believe you deserve this."

"Thanks." I pocketed the bag. Well, maybe if these kinds of jobs bring me good coin then there's probably no harm in –

The door burst open and Irileth rushed in a look of panic on her face.

"What's wrong?" I asked quickly.

"You both need to speak to the Jarl," she said. "Hurry!"

Farengar raised an eyebrow. "What's all the fuss about?"

Irileth's eyes held fear. "A dragon's been sighted near the watchtower."


	6. Fus

**Author's Note:** _Fus _is the Dragon word for "force"

**Fifth Shout: Fus**

I ran with the small group of soldiers the Jarl had dispatched, searching the skies for signs of the dragon. The skies were clear, but I couldn't help feeling afraid that it was going to swoop down and crush me in its claws.

The watchtower came into view a few minutes later, the top of it smoking like a chimney. Chunks of wall lay scattered about, the walkway connected to the entrance completely destroyed. Crouching behind a small group of rocks nearby, we watched the curling smoke rise into the sky.

"Where could it be…?" I heard one soldier ask another.

"Probably just hiding in there, waiting for us to come inside and then he'll eat us," his companion replied.

"No signs of any dragon right now," Irileth said warily. "But it sure looks like he's been here." She turned to us. "I know it looks bad, but we have to figure out what happened. If that dragon's still skulking around somewhere…Spread out."

She drew her sword and the others followed suit, drawing their own swords or their bows. I stayed behind them, not wanting to repeat my experience with a dragon close-up and about to smolder me.

"Look for survivors," Irileth ordered as we approached the tower. "We need to know what happened here."

As I walked towards the entrance, one of the men tried to run after me.

"No, stay back!" he called. "It's still here somewhere! Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!"

"Kynareth save us…" another mumbled as he passed me.

A loud roar made us all look up. The dragon soared above us, banking left and right, trying to grab us. The archers sprang into actions, firing arrows as fast as they could at its wings.

"As soon as it lands, kill it!" Irileth shouted.

The dragon dove for three archers that were shooting at it, its roar deafening. They ran for cover, but the shockwave knocked them off their feet. A column of fire erupted from the dragon's mouth and soon I could smell the three men's charred bodies, their lives quickly snuffed out.

In that instant, I felt something trigger in me, an unrelenting need to protect this small group of soldiers from this monstrosity.

_You were born to be a warrior._

I rushed at the dragon, reaching for the swirling pools of mana that dwelled in me. My left hand burst into flame and I thrust it towards the dragon, releasing a wave of fire at it. The soldiers began to stab and shoot, and I joined in, trying to finish it before it could take flight once again.

"Die, dragon!" Irileth yelled as she thrust her sword into its wing. The dragon howled in pain and swung its arm out, knocking her back, taking two men down with her. It turned and opened its mouth wide.

"OUT OF THE WAY!" I bellowed and we all dove as it breathed another jet of fire upon us.

The dragon growled and flew up once again, sending another shockwave that forced us to stay down. It began circling the tower, looking for an easy target. But Irileth had been successful. Its flight was slower now, and one wing dropped slightly lower than the other. Dark, dark blood began to drip on the ground.

I ran for the nearest archer. "Sir, may I borrow your bow?"

He looked at me. "You can shoot, lass? I have nothing but one arrow left."

"Good enough," I said quickly. "I think I know where to hit it."

He handed the bow and the arrow. I climbed on a fallen piece of wall, fixing the arrow on the string. I pulled the string back, taking careful aim, keeping my eye on the flying beast.

_You were born to be a warrior._

_Don't let her be wrong, _I thought.

As the dragon neared me, I exhaled slowly and let the arrow fly.

Straight it flew…

…right into the dragon's right eye.

The dragon jerked back, unleashing another howl of pain and dove straight at me, claws extended. I dove to the side, narrowly missing it by inches. The dragon crashed nearby, sending out a blinding cloud of dust.

"Are you all right?" Irileth hollered.

"I'm fine!" I managed to yell back to her.

I slowly got up, gripping my sword in my hand. Once again, flames enveloped my hand. The dragon growled and tried to turn towards me, but I kept myself walking in its blind spot. As the archers focused on it, I thrust my hand out, scorching it with more flame than before. While the fire still burned its scales, I ran and lunged, burying the sword deep into its head. The dragon flailed about, trying to dislodge it, but I held on, continuing to press the blade deeper until the dragon lay still under me, breath leaving its body. The Jarl's troop approached it cautiously.

"Is it dead?" one asked.

I pulled my sword out and climbed down, trying to catch my breath. "I'm pretty sure it is."

A sudden glow made us all jump back. The dragon's body seemed to be enveloped in bright, swirling lights, and the wind began to blow. As we stared at the strange phenomenon, the swirling lights appeared to leave the dragon's body…and circle around me.

I felt a warm sensation, as if I was being wrapped in a thick wool blanket, then a sudden burst of strength welling up inside me. No longer did I feel fatigued but completely energized. And deep within the recesses of my mind, a voice whispered.

_Mirmulnir…_

_Could this be the dragon's name? _I wondered.

I stared at the dragon's body, finding only a skeleton left. I blinked, it had been covered with flesh and scales just a few moments ago!

"Damned good shooting boys," Irileth said to the archers.

One guard stared at me in awe. "You…you must be Dragonborn!"

"Dragonborn…?" I asked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"In the very oldest tales, back from when there were still dragons in Skyrim, the Dragonborn would slay dragons and steal their power," he explained. He eyed me curiously. "That's what you did, isn't it? Absorbed that dragon's power?"

I gaped at him. What was he going on about? Me being this…Dragonborn?

"I…don't know what happened to me," I admitted.

"There's only one way to find out," the guard said. "Try to Shout…According to the old legends, only the Dragonborn can Shout without training, the way the dragons do."

"Shout…?"

"Dragonborn?" another guard piped up joining in on the conversation. "What are you talking about?"

"That's right!" yet another said. "My grandfather used to tell stories about the Dragonborn."

They looked at me intently, waiting for something to happen. I gave them a confused look. They wanted me to Shout something…the way the dragons did…?

Deep inside me, the dragon's soul stirred, and I reached for it, wondering how I could possibly do this so-called "Shout". I felt energy build up in my chest, and a single word flashed in my mind. The power pushed up, up, until it could no longer be denied. I opened my mouth, and my voice echoed throughout the plain, scattering dry leaves and twigs everywhere, making everyone gawk at me.

"_FUS!"_


	7. Zin

**Author's**** Note:** _Zin_ is the Dragon word for "honor"

I am really sorry I took a long time to update but I had writer's block (again) and I took me a while to straighten out what I wanted to do with this chapter. I'm already typing the chapter after this so I can update faster. So, without further ado, here's chapter six!

**Sixth Shout: Zin**

I tried to avoid the stares of everyone at the dining table, instead focusing rather intently on the food on my plate. News of my slaying of the dragon had spread like wildfire through the city and whispers could be heard around every corner. Not to mention that Jarl Balgruuf made me Thane of Whiterun and have me his Axe as a reward. He also gave me leave to buy a house and appointed a woman named Lydia as my housecarl.

With the gold I had saved over the few weeks, I bought my first house, a cozy little cottage called Breezehome. Proventus Avenicci, the Jarl's Steward, was still renovating it according to what I wanted to be placed inside, so I still lived in Jorrvaskr for the time being.

"Is it true what they're saying?" Vilkas's voice cut through my thoughts, bringing me back to reality. "That you're really the Dragonborn?"

I shrugged. "Everyone seems to think so. I…I don't understand myself."

"We _must _go hunting sometime!" Ria piped up with a smile.

Skjor gave a little chuckle. "Who knew that such an innocent-looking woman could slay a dragon? I'd hate to think what you would do to your husband if he so much as irritates you."

I had to smile at his statement. Admittedly, it felt so delightful to have this kind of power, whatever power it was. If I had known I was this so-called Dragonborn sooner…things would have been different.

"What are you planning to do now?" Kodlak asked. "Being a Thane of Whiterun and being the Dragonborn, surely you must have plans."

"Actually, being all that just further complicated things," I admitted. "I received a summons from the Grey Beards to go to the Throat of the World, but I don't think I'm ready to face them just yet. I just want to settle down first and take it easy for the time being. And I like living here, though it's only been a couple of weeks."

The rest of the Companions smiled and continued eating. However, I noticed Skjor giving Aela a look I could not understand then glancing at me from time to time. What were they thinking?

After dinner, I excused myself and went outside. The Skyforge's fire had been put out and little by little the city was darkening as its citizens went inside their homes to retire. I didn't want to go to bed just yet, knowing that I wasn't going to get any sleep because Njada and Athis were probably going to start another argument in the quarters again.

I glanced around, making sure no one could see me, and climbed up to the roof. From there I saw the roofs of the various houses and shops in the Plains and Wind districts. A few dark clouds were scattered across the sky, giving me a full view of the stars and the moon.

Sitting down, feeling the cold breeze blowing against my tunic and hair, making me shiver. I was still a bit unused to the cold climate of Skyrim, but my body was slowly learning to cope. Perhaps I should've brought a cloak…

"_I don't feel that cold, mama." A little sneeze._

_She laughed. "My child, in Skyrim, you would freeze in seconds."_

"_Father says we should never ever go to Skyrim. Why is that, mama?"_

"_Your father…is a difficult man." Sadness clouded her eyes. "There are some things he doesn't want to understand. He has shut his mind from those things."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because that's just how he is. Now, try to keep warm, my child, and I shall bring you some hot soup."_

"_Mama?"_

"_Yes, child?"_

"_Is it really much, much colder in Skyrim?"_

_She laughed again and nodded. "The winters here are but a normal summer day in Skyrim."_

I reached up as if to grab a star and sighed. How many years have passed since she left us…? The memories I have left were so few, yet they were branded forever in my mind. I would never allow myself to forget her, even though Father readily did.

"What's got your mind so pre-occupied?" a voice brought me crashing back to reality.

I looked down and saw Farkas staring up at me, dressed in his tunic and trousers. Without his armor, I could see how well-defined his muscles were, sculpted and honed to perfection. I felt a blush coloring my cheeks and I looked away, hoping he didn't see it.

"I was just thinking," I called down to him. "I find that I'm not tired enough to sleep yet."

"Mind if I join you?" he asked. "I, too, can't seem to get sleep to take over me."

"Uh…sure, why not?" I said.

I heard the creaking of the wooden walls and soon Farkas's head popped up from the ledge. I reached out, and, with some difficulty, helped him climb onto the roof.

"I sit here sometimes by myself," he said as he settled beside me. "It is a nice view, is it not?"

I looked up at the sky again and nodded. "It is. It's…peaceful."

"So, what were you thinking about?" he asked.

"Well…seeing as I came here practically a nobody, I guess I'm a little overwhelmed at everything that's been happening." I sighed. "I just wanted to come home, settle, live a normal life, and not be the one who's supposed to slay dragons and save everyone."

"You call working with The Companions a normal life?" he chuckled.

"Well, I was fairly certain that dragon slaying isn't part of your daily activities."

"It could be," he said seriously, "now that we know that the legends are true."

"Great, just great." I lay back, closing my eyes. "I wish the legends would just stay legends. I don't recall my mother mentioning that I was the Dragonborn. Come to think of it, she never told me any kind of story concerning the Dragonborn."

"You and your mother seemed to have been very close," Farkas said, "with the way you speak about her."

"We were," I said. "My father was too focused on his own work to bother with me."

"Where did you live before coming here? You never really told us."

I shook my head. "Some place very far from here. I don't like talking about it."

"You didn't bring your mother with you when you came here?" he asked.

"She's dead," I said plainly. "She died of illness when I was eighteen."

Silence reigned between us for a few minutes. I felt the tears welling up my eyes but I fought them back, reminding myself that nothing could be gained from crying.

"_Don't show any weaknesses, my child. They will use them against you."_

After eight years, the void left by my mother was still fresh.

"Vilkas and I didn't have any parents," he suddenly said. "We were raised in an orphanage and when we were sixteen, we joined the companions. Skjor sort of became our father; he took care of us and taught us everything we know. He said I have the strength of Ysgramor and my brother has his smarts." He chuckled.

Unsure of what to say about this revelation, I kept silent. So that why he and Vilkas were so close – aside from the fact that they were twins, they were raised side by side, relying on each other because they had no one else but themselves. For a moment, I wished I could've traded places with them.

_No! _I mentally slapped myself. _I wouldn't wish that kind of life for them. I wouldn't wish it on anyone._

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Farkas asked.

"No," I replied. "I don't even know if I have any family except for my father."

"So you're alone."

"Pretty much, yes."

Silence bloomed between us once again. I kept staring at the stars, my back slightly aching from lying on the hard wood of the roof. The cold had numbed my face and arms. Farkas was staring out into the distance in deep thought.

"I better go to bed," I said sitting up and arching my back to relieve the tension that had built up there. "See you in the morning, Farkas."

He nodded. "I should get to bed as well."

We climbed down, Farkas going first. When his feet touched the ground, he dusted his tunic and waited for me. The fire at the center of the hall was still burning and I sighed as the warmth enveloped me.

"I want something to do for tomorrow," I said as Farkas walked towards his room.

"Skjor was looking for you earlier," he said. "But you left the table before he could talk to you. Ask him in the morning."

I stared after him. As I walked downstairs to the sleeping quarters, I decided that this Dragonborn business would have to wait. I still had work to be done in Jorrvaskr with the Companions and I still had to prove myself that I was worthy enough to be one of them.

"Look at me now, mama," I muttered to myself as I slipped between the covers. "People used to laugh at me and now they want me to slay dragons."

As soon as I closed my eyes, sleep overcame me and for the first time in a long time, I had no dreams or nightmares.

The very first thing in the morning after we had finished breakfast, I looked for Skjor. He was outside, engaged with Vilkas in a deep conversation. As soon as he saw me, he dismissed Vilkas and motioned for me to approach him.

"Ah, there you are," he said.

"You wanted to see me?" I asked.

"I did," he replied. "Your time, it seems, has come."

"What do you mean?"

"Last week a scholar came to us," Skjor explained. "He said he knew where he could find another fragment of Wuuthrad." He frowned. "He seemed a fool to me, but if he's right, the honor of the Companions demands that we seek it out."

"So…what does this have to do with me?" I asked puzzled.

Skjor looked at me like I was a child and explained further. "This is a simple errand, but the time is right for it to be your Trial. Carry yourself with honor and you'll become a true Companion. Farkas will be your shield-sibling on this venture, whelp. He'll answer any questions you have."

"Uh…all right. I understand."

As I turned to find Farkas, Skjor gave me a piercing stare.

"Try not to disappoint," he said sternly. "Or get him killed."

"Yes, sir," I said as I went back inside.

Wuuthrad, I later learned, was Ysgramor's weapon. According to Farkas, Ysgramor "came from the ancient homeland and killed all the elves. But not all of them because some of them are still here." As soon as I heard those words I laughed so hard everyone looked our way to see what we were talking about.

Dustman's Cairn, the place where the fragment of Wuuthrad supposedly was, was half a day's travel from Whiterun. The sun was sinking behind the mountains as we reached the tomb. I looked down at the deep pit where the entrance was – moss and vines covered the old stone steps and a few broken pots and vases lay strewn about the floor. Farkas nodded to me and we descended the stone steps and stopped in front of the doors leading into the Cairn.

"There's going to be…things…in there, right?" I asked.

"In all likelihood there will be," Farkas replied. "But don't worry, Shield-Sister, we can handle them."

I gripped my sword tightly. "Right. Shall we go in?"

Not letting our guards down even for just a moment, we pushed the iron doors open and stepped inside. The tomb, supposedly abandoned, looked like someone had recently been exploring it. The fire pits were lit and there were a few personal items on the stone table in the middle of the room.

As we went deeper, it seemed that the long-dead occupants didn't want any visitors in their home. Draugr sprang from all directions but, being long-dead, their bodies could not fight as well as when they were alive. We quickly cleaved our way through them and soon found ourselves in a large cavern. Farkas shut the wooden doors behind us to prevent any of them following as I went down the stairs, looking around for any signs of danger.

The cavern was empty, save for some bookshelves with a few old books, some skeletons covered with dust and cobwebs, and an enchanting table. On the far end of the cavern were two rooms, one was open while the other was blocked by a barred gate.

"There's a lever here," I called as I went inside the open room.

"Vanya, wait!" Farkas said but I had already pulled the lever.

A rusty sliding sound made me look back sharply. A barred gate has slid over the entrance of the room, trapping me inside. Farkas rushed towards it, peering through the bars.

"Oops," I said sheepishly thoroughly embarrassed.

Farkas sighed and shook his head. "Now look what you've gotten yourself into."

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"No worries," he assured me. "Just sit tight. I'll find the release."

"Yeah…" At that point I wished there was a table for me to crawl under. _Just great, Vanya, it's your Trial and you embarrass yourself in front of Farkas._

Before Farkas could walk away to find the release however, he was surrounded by a group of bandits all wearing the same armor. I gasped and grabbed the bars of the cage, as if I could force them open by sheer strength.

"It's time to die, dog!" one of them spat as they drew their weapons.

"We knew you were coming," another said. "Your mistake, Companion."

"Which one is that?" a third asked.

"It doesn't matter. He wears that armor, he dies!"

"No!" I cried. "No!"

I pushed against the bars with all my might, but though old and rusted, they were still strong. Farkas stepped back closer to the bars, and I wished I hadn't been so stupid and pulled that lever without thinking what might happen. I could only watch helplessly as the bandits came closer. Farkas could probably take on two or three of them but even though he was a very skilled warrior, it was impossible for him to take on half a dozen and live.

Farkas was going to die. And it was all my fault.

~ O ~ O ~ O ~ O ~ O ~

**Liked it? Hated it? Please let me know! Review, review, review! Also, can someone tell me why the underlines disappear whenever I upload the documents here? It takes me forever to edit and save so the titles have underlines . **


	8. Briinah

**Author's Note:** _Briinah _is the Dragon word for "sister"

**Seventh Shout: Briinah**

My heart beat faster and faster and I looked around the room for something to break the bars but there was nothing except for some broken pots and an old, rotting bookshelf. I thought of using my magic and burning them when they got close but my hand couldn't fit through the bars, and I didn't have enough mana within me to melt the cage.

Then, the most astonishing thing happened. Farkas, his sword drawn and ready, glanced at me and smiled. How could the man be smiling when he was facing certain death?!

"Killing you would make for an excellent story," a bandit woman said running a thumb over the blade of her dagger.

"None of you would be alive to tell it," Farkas growled.

As if nothing could surprise me further, he dropped his sword and quickly shed his armor so that he was dressed in nothing but his tunic and trousers.

"What are you doing?!" I shouted.

Before our very eyes, fur began to grow all over his body, and I heard the sound of muscles tearing and bones breaking. I wanted to look away but I found myself unable to do so. The bandits that surrounded him were stepping back, flashes of fear clear upon their faces. Farkas let out a howl as his transformation was completed.

Before me stood a werewolf that towered over everyone, his teeth bared and his claws razor sharp. Farkas snarled and pounced, giving the bandits no time to react. I looked away as the screams of agony and the sound of flesh being torn apart filled my ears. When I finally had the courage to look again, the werewolf was staring at me through the bars of the cage. There was no trace of the man he was in this form, except for the blue eyes that had been so familiar to me for the past few weeks.

"Farkas…?" I said slowly.

He said nothing and dashed off out of view. A few moments later, the bars of the cage raised and I was free. Farkas came into the room and I looked away again, my face turning bright red. He was naked and I had looked away just in time before I saw anything I shouldn't see.

"You can look now," came his voice after another few minutes. "I'm decent, I promise."

I looked as he finished putting his armor back on. On the ground around him were the eviscerated remains of the bandits. The smell of blood wafted up my nostrils, making me want to heave my last meal out of my stomach.

Farkas grinned at me. "I hope I didn't scare you."

"No, not really," I lied.

He laughed. "You're not very good at lying, Vanya."

"Oh, shut up," I said. I reached into my pack, brought out a clean cloth, and handed it to him. "Here. Clean yourself up."

"Thanks." He began to wipe the blood off his arms and face, not seeming to care that he was surrounded by dead bodies, or rather, pieces of dead bodies.

Feeling the need to break the silence, I blurted out the first thing that popped into my mind.

"What was that?"

As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to run back into the small chamber and pull the lever again.

Farkas shrugged. "It's a blessing given to some of us. We can be like wild beasts. Fearsome."

"You're going to make me…one of those beasts?"

"Oh, no." He laughed like it was the most unthinkable idea in the world. "Only the Circle have the beastblood. Prove your honor to be a Companion."

"Right," I said still a bit uneasy.

"Eyes on the prey, not on the horizon," Farkas said. "We should keep moving. There's still the Draugr to worry about."

The bandits, he later told me, were called the Silver Hand. They hated werewolves and strove to cleanse Skyrim of them. As we pressed on, my mind went back to Farkas turning into a werewolf and dismembering the bandits. Suddenly, an image of Farkas naked flashed in my head, making me stop and shake my head.

_What the hell is wrong with you?! _I thought.

"Vanya?" Farkas stopped and looked back at me. "Are you all right?"

"F-fine," I managed to say, trying to hide yet another blush.

More Silver Hand members awaited us, along with the Draugr, but now that I was fighting alongside him, Farkas saw no need to transform again. As we went deeper into the tomb, it seemed as if there will always be a new group of enemies waiting for us. I was beginning to get tired and I knew Farkas was too.

"Please let this be over soon," I groaned as we opened the next door.

This cavern was bigger than the one where I had embarrassed and trapped myself in; numerous coffins lined the walls, nestled in narrow niches. At the end of the carven were stairs leading up to a platform with an altar and behind it was a wall with the unfamiliar language.

"Be careful, sister," Farkas said as I went up to steps.

As I neared the wall, one word began to pulse. Light began to flow from it, wrapping itself around me. A new Dragon word etched itself in my mind, but like the previous one, I could not say it.

"What was that?" Farkas asked.

"A Dragon word…" I said slowly trying to explain. "It's…it's a word I use for Shouting. But I can't say it. Not yet anyways."

"Why not?"

"I don't know." I recalled the time I had slain my first dragon, how I was suddenly able to say the word after it was dead. Understanding dawned on me. _I need to kill another dragon. That's what they said back at Whiterun. Kill the dragon and take its power…_

"Well, the piece is on the altar. Let's grab it and go."

I looked down at the fragment of Wuuthrad. It seemed to be made of some dark metal, with a design carved upon it, though because it was just a piece of a whole, I could not discern what it was. It was a little larger than my hand. As I reached for it, something at the back of my head nagged that something was not right. We came all this way, dodging traps and killing the undead guardians, and this room was just going to let us take it? No, something was wrong.

"Farkas…" I said slowly. "What do you think will happen after I pick it up?"

He waved his hand impatiently. "Nothing we can't handle. Just grab it and let's go."

No sooner than I had picked up the fragment, we heard a gurgling noise echoing throughout the room. Draugrs staggered in from all directions, bearing swords and bows, groaning and snarling. I hurriedly shoved the fragment in my pack and drew my sword, Farkas following my cue. The Draugrs sprang at us, their ancient bodies strong enough to swing their swords, despite their age.

Farkas and I stood back to back, deflecting and counterattacking every blow the undead guardians tried to land on us. I picked up one of the fallen bows and began to shoot at the archers, trying to pick them off as Farkas took care of the rest.

_I was never a good shot. _I sighed and dropped the bow. "How long do you think you can hold them off?" I asked Farkas.

"As long as you need," he grunted as he swung at a trio of them.

"I'm getting those damn archers." I picked up my sword and ran towards them, dodging the arrows that came at me.

Flames filled my hand and I thrust it outwards, scorching the nearest Draugr archer as I swung my sword at the next. At the corner of my eye I saw Farkas taking on a group at once and I hurried to the rest of my task, burning, slashing, and stabbing the rest of the archers. When they were all dispatched, I jumped down to help my Shield-Brother.

"_FUS!"_ I shouted at a group, and they were knocked back against the wall, landing on top of one another.

I looked around to see if there were any more coming. When I saw that there were none, I collapsed to my knees in relief.

"Thank the Divines that's over with," I breathed.

Farkas was staring at me, awestruck. "So...that's what a Shout looks like."

"It's not easy to pull off, you know," I said. "My throat feels a bit raw from doing that. I better not try doing it again for a while."

He sheathed his sword and knelt beside me, catching his breath. It was then I noticed the deep gash in his arm.

"You're hurt!" I cried.

Farkas looked at his arm and shrugged. "Just a scratch. It'll be okay. Besides –" He pointed to my cheek. "You're hurt as well."

"Wha…?" I grabbed a nearby shield, dusted it off, and peered at it. Sure enough, there was a gash on my left cheek. "One of the arrows must've done it when I was dodging."

"Here." Farkas got a clean cloth from his pack and gently began to wipe my cheek with it. "Hopefully it won't leave a scar…" His words trailed off as his thumb brushed over my right cheek.

A flush rose up my neck and I leaned away from his touch. "Umm…yeah. Hopefully. Thank you." I took a clean cloth from my pack as well. "Your turn, Brother."

He kept staring at my right cheek as I cleaned the wound as best as I could and tied a bandage around it. I kept my eyes on his arm, not wanting to meet his gaze.

"There, that should do it till we get back to Whiterun," I said. I took out the fragment of Wuuthrad and held it up for him to see. "Mission accomplished. They'll be happy when we get back."

"They sure will be," Farkas said with a smile. He stood. "Come on, I don't want to spend another minute in here."

We climbed up the staircase to the right of the altar and found that one of the coffins was open, revealing a secret passage. The cold air welcomed us as we got out of the Cairn at last, and I breathed in as much as I could.

The moon glowed brightly as we rode back to Whiterun, at a slower pace so we could rest our weary bodies.

"Vanya," Farkas said softly as his horse pulled up beside me. "How did you get those scars?"

My hand went to my right cheek, feeling the three thin lines under my eye. "I don't want to remember."

The memory of humiliation, of betrayal flashed through my mind, and my hold on the reins tightened. The cruel laughter that filled my ears as I begged over and over. And the figure that stood over them, over me, his face twisted in a sneer…

Farkas's hand over mine brought me back to the present. I shoved those memories back into the darkest, deepest confines of my mind, locking them away.

"I tried to fight back," I said softly. "I got these as a reward. But it wasn't enough."

For the rest of the trip back we said nothing. The sun had begun to rise by the time we reached Whiterun and once I presented the fragment of Wuuthrad to my fellow Companions, I went to my bed, pulled off my boots, shed my armor, and collapsed upon it, surrendering to the sweet embrace of sleep.

"Vanya?" Someone was shaking my shoulder. "Vanya! Wake up!"

"Five more minutes," I grumbled, trying to pull the covers over my head but they were snatched away as quickly.

"You need to wake up, it's important!"

Grumbling a stream of curses and rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sat up and met Aela's gaze.

"What?" I asked irritably.

"They sent me to fetch you," Aela said cheerfully. "Everyone's waiting for you in the yard."

"For what?"

She smiled. "You'll see. Now come on."

Grudgingly, I pulled on my boots and armor and followed Aela upstairs and outside. Night had fallen, and the lit torches illuminated the figures of the Companions, standing in a half circle. Kodlak stood in the middle and smiled at us as we approached them.

"Brothers and sisters of the Circle, today we welcome a new soul into our mortal fold," he said. He gestured to me. "This woman has endured, challenged, and has shown her valor." He turned to the rest. "Who will speak for her?"

"I stand witness to the courage of the soul before us," Farkas said as he looked at me.

"Would you raise your shield in her defense?" Kodlak asked.

"I would stand at her back, so that the world may never overtake us," he responded.

"And would you raise your sword in her honor?"

"It stands ready to meet the blood of her foes." His gaze never wavered from my face.

"And would you raise a mug in her name?"

"I would lead the song of triumph as our mead hall reveled in her stories," Farkas declared proudly.

I felt myself blushing again but I managed to smile at him in thanks. Kodlak nodded and turned to us again.

"Then the judgement of this Circle is complete," he announced. "Her heart beats with fury and courage that have united the Companions since the days of the distant green summers. Let it beat with ours, that the mountains may echo and our enemies may tremble at the call."

"It shall be so!" the rest of the Circle said.

As the company began to go their separate ways, Kodlak approached me.

"Well, lass, you're one of us now," he said. "I trust you won't disappoint."

"No, sir," I said. "I won't let the Companions down."

"Very good. Carry on." He patted my shoulder and went back inside with the rest.


End file.
